by Richard Mcallister
Washed up drifter speaking tongues to the gods.
Serene damsels waiting for change, staring at the future in three minute clips.
danger knows his limits, wanderer of the milky way.
Full retreat ordered to the sniper of your dreams,
unlocking levels of the high rise pre-madonna.
It’s the whole a lifetime, as the starling flies,
so why would you worry when your fate unravels like dye into a pool.
Speak not of nihilism, Nietzsche is dead, and we have killed him.
Break open the heavens and let Prometheus light our way.
Smiths of desert suffering, thirst for unfaithful knowledge.
The starling though, creeps southward, towards what we know not,
accepting faith as keys to the kingdom of freedom.